[open] 002 | off to never neverland

[ryuji]

WHO? ryuji sakamoto + you!
WHAT? dream threads and ramen time. will add on for some end of the month open logs
WHEN? during the hot spot stuff and shortly thereafter
ANYTHING ELSE? typical usual ryuji stuff, nothing too dark unless you want it to head that way

i. dream time: school sux [open]

[This is the world of the school as it exists in Ryuji's fears. You enter the halls and immediately notice a purple tint to the environment around you, like a foggy haze that covers over every crevice of the impossibly longer hallways than a school would actually have. In every direction, lockers, cherry red- except the fact that there are eyes embedded into them- all over, staring at every movement that's made. The people here are just outlines, ghosts of their actual self, translucent, but always affixed on something or another. Every few feet there are track hurdles that rise higher than a jump that's feasibly possible, and right underneath, should you fall, spikes that will pierce and maim and threaten to tear you to shreds.

Ryuji's not looking at any of the eyes, or the hurdles, rather just staring at a bulletin board of class listings while he leans on a crutch and his leg bandaged up over his school uniform. Every name he knows seems to be on there, all far ahead in ranking than he is, and of course, the last name on the roster happens to be his own. The eyes in the lockers look complacent, happy to see Ryuji failing in every aspect of his life. Short voices of whispers from the outlines of prominent figures in Ryuji's life call out: "if only Sakamoto-kun could apply himself," "he ruined his chances at a sports scholarship," "ugh, go out on a date? With him!?"

He knows he shouldn't care about this shit, but some days it's just so hard to feel like he's normal. Everything he touches he fucks up.]

ii. dream time: on the high seas [open]

[The air in the sky is filled with a stringest smell of sea salt, as a young figure stands stalwart at the helm of a ship straight out of a pirate movie. The word "KIDD" is sprawled out in big, yellow lettering, scratched out in graffiti against the port side with a comical visage of an angry, wrathful face painted onto the bow.

An opposing pirate ship approaches and the captain of this fine vessel looks like he's ready for war, his grin sharp and pointed just like the mural below the front of the boat, and he tips his hat lower over his face to fight the oncoming wind that threatens to knock it off. He's the lead man, and of course, nothing is going to bring him down from the thrall of victory.

a. [As your ship rears up starboard, Ryuji raises a hand, high in the air and the first mate signals the blare of cannons off the port-covers of the windows below deck. A slurry of explosive volleyballs are released like artillery fire, ricocheting and napalming on first contact.]

CREW! Prepare to board!

b.[Ryuji turns to you, his first mate and nods. You two have just stolen the treasure of all treasures, a spyglass that can look into the soul of a person and tell if they're inherently good or not. While it lays safely at Ryuji's belt, the ship of the undead approaches closer and closer. There's a curse placed on this pirate ship, buried now, deep into the woodwork. They'll be hunted to the edge of the world and back, but this particular item was worth it. The enemy ship pincers straight into the KIDD, as the mighty navigator tosses and turns.]

Shit... shit! New plan. We're gonna steal that ship! You ready?

iii. dream time: there's my father looking on / and there's my girlfriend arm in arm / with the captain of the other team [open]

[Ryuji's all of 14, so basically... last week, to some of you old timers. He's relatively popular among the team he's on, but it's a few minutes before the match and he's stretching. It might be weird to see him with his dark brown, almost black hair, but he's carefree and this is a good time for him in his life, for the most part.]

C'mon, you've gotta do your best too, y'know? We're both gonna get the hell outta here when we graduate and ride on full scholarships. Just wait.

[A looming figure appears behind him- it's the team's coach; in this dream, out of place because it's actually his father and he looks down on Ryuji with the biggest disappointed scowl written right into his features. "Ryuji, don't disappoint me."]

iv. ramen time: you're one of us now! [closed to Sieg and Ash]

@ENTERTHEDRAGON Yo, as promised. I'm gonna make some ramen, you gotta try this.

[It's been a weird few days, what with all the hot spots looming around. He's fallen into dreams- his own, others, it's hard to tell, really, but as he drags one of his three precious bags of ramen to the kitchen, he imagines that it's well past due to indulge in one of the things he loves the most. Ramen is more than just a meal, it's comfort food- it's a thing that reminds him of his home, binds him there, and keeps the thoughts of hanging out with his friends at a shitty little hole in the wall close to his heart.

First thing's first- he needs to get piping hot water. The shortage of coolant in the ship means that this is probably going to be filled with relative ease.]

v. they're just testing us, they can't flex with us, they can't mess with us [closed to some honorable greek hero]

[It's been too damn long since Ryuji's worked out- he's starting to feel the muscle mass that he's accumulated over the last year starting to lose some of its tenseness, some of its bulk. He hates being seen as weak, and hates it even more now that he's surrounded by these Adonis type soldiers who can lift twice the amount he can and take twice the amount of blows. Knowing that agility will never be something he can truly excel at again, he takes to the gym.

It's a slow go, getting back into the shape of things, but he knows it'll be worth it. Every sore muscle, every bend of his body, every pound of sweat; he's going to make himself better, because that's the only thing he knows how to do.

Only, he wasn't expecting to see Achilles there, and even more nonplussed that all the equipment in the room looks absolutely fucking weird to him. He rolls up his standard issue army surplus tshirt's sleeve and breathes through his nose.]

Yo. How the hell do you use this shit?

wildcard! - hit me up with something you want to do, or send me a centerfold message.

Comments

ramen :9

[lonelywar]

[He does remember Ryuji mentioning something about ramen at some point... or several.]

@BOARING I will be in the mess hall shortly.

[True to his word, less than ten minutes he's walking in, looking around a moment before he caught the tell-tale bleached blond sight of Ryuji beyond the windows, in the kitchen. One typically only saw the droids back there, so he stood out a little bit.

He carefully makes his way through the door, nodding to his friend with a small smile.] Ryuji, hello. [He notices the ramen, though... he seems confused, perhaps to the point of concern.

Is that supposed to be food? His concept of such a thing has been broadened quite a bit since arriving on board BASE, but at least everything else he's eaten hasn't been... in a plastic wrapper...]

[ryuji]

[Living that ramen dream, man.

Ryuji's convinced a DACTYL to let him have the kitchen for a little bit, provided he let his brain be scanned for actual intelligence at using appliances (wow, a pass, look at that), and soon enough he was busy hovering over the boiling water and giddily passing his nose over the open pot, savoring the stale scent of spices that... although didn't really compare with a real pork based broth, was at least somewhat on par with the expectation.

Fuck, anything was better than protein blocks or bread.]

Yo! [He looks so proud of this little interlude it's not even funny.]

Are you prepared for a culinary treat the likes of which you've never experienced?

[lonelywar]

[Ashitaka has not received a formal introduction to kitchen appliances. He had thought of it a few times, but with food readily available at the request of the droids, he hadn't thought it necessary to teach himself. As he stands now, he looks on to the pot full of boiling water on a very confusing-looking platform which seemed to generate heat or fire. More convenient and controlled than a cookfire, he supposes, though all the dials and ranges confuse him.

He has to admit, the smell beginning to drift through the kitchen isn't bad, though. Certainly has more flavor to it than most of what they'd been eating in the last few weeks.]

I have had much time to prepare myself. [He nods, dreadfully serious.] I think I am ready. I have great expectations from what you have told me.

[He smiles then; this is basically the extent of Ashitaka joking around.]

[ryuji]

[Ryuji manages to lift an eyebrow in Ashitaka's direction. He doesn't quite get that he's joking around at first, totally expecting the other to brandish a sword and slap down for battle right in the middle of the kitchen, but a cursory study of his belt doesn't reveal thirst for war. Then, a smile. Ryuji's heart fills with warmth, excited that he can get an opportunity to share his favorite things with people he enjoys being around. Hell yeah. He'll have to work hard next mission too. Maybe he can get a month's supply instead of the measly 3 packages that awaited him on his bed when he came to BASE.

So, this must be the resolution of a man who's about to have his socks blown off. With a crooked grin, he takes the block of noodles out from the metallic looking plastic, brandishing it to show him.]

S'kinda like rice. Hard now, but you add it into the broth and it softens into these stringy noodles. [Unceremoniously, he dumps the noodles into the pot.]

Uh. Well, you gotta stir it a bit to activate the complex flavoring. [Superstition? Ryuji, that's not a real thing.] Give it a whirl! [He holds out the ladle.]

[lonelywar]

[He still regards the shimmering plastic with thinly-veiled mistrust, and that expression doesn't change a whole hell of a lot once Ryuji produces what looks like a strangely-made brick out of its contents. He might say it's like rice, but there were many faults with that logic. Different shape, different color; with rice you at least knew what you were going to have once it was cooked, but looking at this brick of noodles (he supposes?) he's not sure what's going to happen.

But no, he will trust him on this. He's the expert on these types of foods, after all...

He nods, accepting the ladle. This bit, he can do. Certain aspects of cooking haven't changed in hundreds of years, even if the stove was a bit different from cooking over a fire.

He begins to stir, though for now the brick was still more solid than noodley. It would take a little more time.]

How much of your food is like this? [He glances to the discarded plastic wrapper.] You purchase it like this?

[ryuji]

[There's something to be said about culture being passed down through food. Even when he was a little kid, and his family was still in its nuclear state before his father started having his nuclear meltdowns (yeah, well, some people probably shouldn't become parents, but that's another story for another time), dinner time at the small kitchen table was a way to talk about your day, share successes and failures, pass down things like the time honored tradition of passing the pickled squid one spot to the left. That sort of thing stands the test of time, whether you're in modern Japan or the forested wilderness of a time long forgotten.

Ryuji marvels at Ashitaka taking command of the chef's station. He's so complacent with watching the other don the task of stirring the noodles that he feels dumbly warmed and sated by this particular shared moment. He goes to open his mouth and be reaffirming- to tell his friend you're doin' great before he's caught by a question and he has to think a little bit about it.]

Some shops make their own noodles from scratch. Those are always the best, since they taste fresh. [Turning around, he settles the small of his back against the counter next to the range and Ashitaka, facing him longways.]

But yeah, my time period you can usually buy all sorts of stuff like this. Japan in the future is like... super obsessed with efficiency and laziness at the same time, so like. You can buy tons of food like this. Ready to pop in a pan and eat. We don't gotta hunt anymore. Hell, you can go to a shop and have all of this sorta stuff made for you to take home and eat, too.

[lonelywar]

[He nods.] That sounds delicious.

[Mostly because it was the food he would be more familiar with. It's not that there was no preservation - he hadn't really been involved in it, but he was aware of the process of salting meat and other foods to preserve it for travel or for months of lean harvest or hunting. But most meals revolved around pots bubbling over open fires, preparing a soup or rice to be had with others.

He hums thoughtfully at what Ryuji describes. Striving for efficiency was only human, though he supposes it could go hand-in-hand with laziness, with complacency.

The brick of noodles he had been prodding at loosens in the boiling water, actually beginning to resemble food. To Ashitaka, this is a magic on par to the strange network device which allowed them to speak to others distant to them with little more than thought.]

It is certainly convenient. [He slowly stirs the contents of the simmering pot.] Though I will be the judge of whether or not quality is lost in that.

It certainly sounds as if there was a great variety though.

[Vaguely wistful, not only because there was a lack of variety in food back home but also because there hadn't been many options here or in France, either.] I feel I might get spoiled with too many options. [Eating back home had been less about uniqueness or great taste and more about just getting food enough to continue onward. At least, that was true for the people of his village and the working class people of Irontown that he had eaten with. As said, the company had been the more important aspect.]

[ryuji]

Spoiled rotten. [Maybe that's a phrase that Ashitaka hasn't heard yet, but Ryuji says it with such a gusto to his smile that it's hard to assume he had meant the ramen, and he goes to mete out bowls from the cabinets. Nothing special, more or less what you'd expect out of any hunk of junk pieces together with duct tape floating across the universe, but. It'll do. He casually places both of the bowls next to the pot. It's a sin that there aren't chopsticks and soup spoons around to authenticate the experience to its absolute potential, but, there's a time and place for everything.

Like a time and a place for being so utterly damn amused at Ashitaka's marveling at the noodles breaking apart and softening, turning into the symbolic, long strands of soft glutenous strings.]

And I'm the one that's gonna do it.

[Ya boy Ryuji here, reporting in as he engages in helicopter parenting, moving closer to rest his elbow on Ashitaka's shoulder and peering into the pot to see what his hard work and fine ministrations had been producing. Looks pretty damn good.]

Ain't gonna get much better than that.

[Truth be told, there's way too much ceremony to this entire experience for just a bag of ramen that would cost about 100 yen, but... it's kind of fun keeping up the pretense and the fanfare over something that he thinks is super mundane up against someone who's never seen this before. He moves his hand from his shoulder down to the range's operating panels and turns the heat off.]

Want me to handle the next part?

[lonelywar]

[He understands the vernacular, yes.

It is simply a strange shift in thought. Food for him had largely been a thing of subsistence and survival rather than luxury; their meager village, hidden nestled in the depths of the forest, offered little more than enough to give them means to make typical rice gruel with occasional feasts of fish caught from the river and the lake. It's not to say that the food hadn't been good, but nearly anything will taste good to you when you are tired and hungry from work.

Some of the meals in France had even seemed incredible when viewed through that lens, though the shift from a nearly life-long diet based on rice as a single powerful staple to the breads and red meats offered in France had been a sharp shock to him physically and mentally.

He's hoping that the ramen would be less so, separated not by land but by a distance of several hundred years in the same country.

Ashitaka's shoulder sinks a bit under the friendly weight of Ryuji's elbow, though it wasn't so much because of that so much as a humorous feint. There is much and more that they have all been through together since their recruitment, but this single moment of camaraderie he had with Ryuji over the roiling boil of the pot of brewing ramen was a definite high point.]

Oh? [He supposes it's done, then. What had once been a mystifying yellow brick was now a pot full of noodles. Incredible.

Ashitaka sets the ladle aside, nodding to his friend as he steps out of the way.] That might be best.

[To be honest, he's a little overwhelmed with the kitchen in general, as he still hasn't had a bona fide lesson in how to use it... so Ryuji was free to take the lead from there.]

[ryuji]

[The soft, faint smell of boiled spices wafts through like a sonorous welcoming home of sorts for the young blond. He's content in his ministrations, taking special care to hip bump his friend as he helicopter parents his most creative masterpiece since coming to COST. And... something about this just seems so awfully, incredibly, heartbreakingly normal, that it brings a smile to his lips even though there's a pang in his chest from the cognitive dissonance that reality has provided them.

In a weird twist of fate, he meets someone that he was never meant to- and then, under the dry humor of a fakeout towards the weight of Ryuji's own elbow, he scrunches his nose a little bit. Better to concentrate on the ramen than endure the feelings that are bunching up inside him. He felt like this with Akira too- when they had first met up at his favorite hole in the wall to take in one of Ryuji's favorite past times. It was then that he decided, without a doubt, that he would probably do anything Akira had ever asked of him. Friendship was always weird like that to someone who had so little of them to begin with. And as he takes out a bowl and begins to mete out two healthy servings of the impossibly unhealthy lunch, he figures that he feels the blooming of the same sort of thing with Ashitaka.]

Alright, dude. It's super hot, but you gotta eat it fast or else it's not worth eatin' at all.

[A lie (mostly- Ryuji's burnt his esophagus once or twice in the mission for this particular holy grail. He pushes the bowl across the counter to Ashitaka. Be careful, young padawan- it's extremely hot.]

You basically kinda suck in the noodles and a lot of air to cool it down as it goes into your mouth.

[A pause.]

Y'know, I never realized how dirty that kinda sounds.

i can't believe you made me write this

[lonelywar]

[Let's just say Ashitaka is used to a slightly different cultural standard of personal space... It's not that Ryuji is the only one with such a different view on it, though he was perhaps the one that observed it most often in his vicinity. It's not bad, per se, just something he blanks on having any sort of response to. No response than a smile remaining persistent on his face. Strange as it was, though the food and the surroundings were quite alien to him, there's something about making a meal with someone else. It reminds him of preparing the rice porridge with either the people of his village or the men of Irontown, the warmth of camaraderie and familiarity that could provide a shelter from the harsher world outside.

Friendship like this was actually somewhat novel to him. It wasn't that he hadn't had friends growing up, but... things were a little different when you were marked from youth, called "prince," considered the pride and future of your people. There had been a level of distance between himself and others, and it had seemed undermining of what he must one day become to circumvent that.

Not that any of that had mattered. He had left never to return, and all of the people of Irontown, too, had been people he had thought to keep at arm's length. He empathized with them as he did all people, but he knew that he could be their friend one day and supposed enemy the next, given his pursuit of absolution for his curse.

So this type of friendship, one without expectations, without conflicts of status, without interruption of his quest or his curse, was new. And it was nice.

He takes the piping-hot bowl of ramen from Ryuji when it is offered, regarding it with slightly wide eyes. It seems like a feast, from his perspective.

He's listening to Ryuji, realizing that he hadn't thought there would be so many rules to eating this food.] Why is that? [Would it really taste that much worse if it wasn't scalding?] Does the flavor fade with the heat?

[Was that a thing in the future???

Now, if Ryuji hadn't continued, he wouldn't have thought it sounded odd at all. He had turned his attention back to his bowl, looking up only to give his friend a confused expression with his head tilted slightly to the side. Because, of course, he's thinking literally - as long as the food was prepared well and your utensils were clean, there would be no worry for the cleanliness of the food...

Or..............................

He sits up a little straighter, getting a little red before, after his attention refocused on Ryuji, putting one hand to his face and laughing. It's a quiet thing, accompanied with a slight shaking of the shoulders.]

This is only because you bring attention to it. [He says this around a hand half-covering his mouth, not completely obscuring a smile.]

ramen crew

[gerechtigkeit]

@WEHFRIED You managed to find some?

[Honestly, he'd almost forgotten about the whole thing. Paris seemed a blur since arriving back on BASE, and Siegfried had mostly tried (keyword: tried) to avoid being punched again or have a lot of things made into even more of a mess.

So to suddenly receive this is a little odd, and he can't help but to headtilt at the message for a minute or so, before deciding to make his way down to the mess hall.]

..Ryuji? [Hey bud, Saber's here, looking curious and also confused as to what... exactly... ramen is. Other than food, he knows it's that. A brow lifts just a little, but he doesn't say much else about it.

He's also half-expecting the crows to somehow join in on the adventure, too.]

[ryuji]

[No response to the text message that gets flung his way; he's way too busy prepping the broth and letting it simmer a little bit to get that artificial flavor out of it. Ryuji's an experimenter by nature; tossing in a piece of protein block (UGHHHHHHHHHHH) and letting it simmer and break down into the water so that it would provide some more of that meaty backbone. Speaking of lack of backbone---]

In here, Saber!

[He looks over the pot and takes an army surplus standard issue ladle of the broth, bringing it to his lips and blowing gently on it. Damn, that shit could scald any tongue like this. Just... a little bit more... and the steam is just the right amount.]

Hey, give this a sip. Tell me whatcha think.

[Holds it up, a hand underneath it so that his palm can catch any threatening drips of the holy water.]

[chariotry]

[ Achilles doesn't need to work out to stay in shape, since his body is frozen as is, never meant to gain or lose. But he's still restless, eager to move around and formulate strategies in his head and imagine his opponent.

He's been to the training room multiple times, having taken to its size. He told Chiron he'd spar with him one of these days, so he's also practicing with the equipment.

Ryuji happens to be here today. He strolls in, not paying the boy a second glance as his armour and shirt begin to shed away from him, particles of mana cascading from his shoulders like raindrops rolling off his skin.

The pants are going, too.

Only to be replaced by a chiton-like skirt. Because you lot care about modesty, he's going to wear something, though he prefers exercising naked.

Rolling his shoulder, he rotates his arm, stretching out the muscle. Again, he doesn't have to, but it's ritual. ]

You shouldn't be asking me; I've never used any it.

[ryuji]

[Thank you for your modesty, Achilles. Ryuji is just going to raise an eyebrow and bite down the urge to call him out for wearing a skirt to work out in. But knowing the alternative... whatever, this is preferable. He looks over the floating grey sponge as it wafts in his direction before poking it and watching it fade into nothingness for a few moments before coming back into scope.

Seriously, where the hell are the barbells and the weights?]

Uh. Wanna play some basketball?

[Because he looks at that mechanical spider and... shit, he's not sure what the hell he's supposed to do with that either. Turn it on? Watch it become a killing machine, rampaging through BASE without a care in the world for the humans and quasi-humans alike? Not going to take the blame for that.

Fresh prince of bel air it is. He picks up a ball, tests for its bounciness.]

Looks like it'll work, you ever play before?

[chariotry]

[ Basketball... He's heard of it. Being a Servant, he'd been summoned to a time where basketball existed, so his initial response is to stare... and try to recollect what basketball actually is.

Except he doesn't know what it is.

He imagines it's a game of sorts, involving a ball. He's able to put that together at the very least, so he crosses his arms and turns to watch Ryuji attentively, eyes darting to the ball as it drops to the floor and bounces back up. ]

No. You gonna show me how? [ Hope you're ready to get a dick flashed in your face. His robe is basically just a short towel wrapped aorund his waist. ]

[ryuji]

[A little slip of the dick never bothered Ryuji.

Except, you know, when it does. He looks at the basketball in his hands and points to the basketball hoop.]

Hell yeah!

[It feels kind of nice being able to show Achilles something for once instead of you know... the other way around... and he takes a free throw shot at the hoop- landing it rather easily (they're not that far from the backboard, it's nothing amazing).]

So, the goal of the game is to get the basketball through the hoop as many times as you can. You gotta keep the ball away from the other person and don't let it get stolen from you.

[He smiles softly, trying his best not to look down at his garb. REALLY ACHILLES?]

Lemme show you how to dribble first. [Goes and heads over to pick the ball up again.]

[chariotry]

[ Oh... this seems relatively easy?

It reminds him of the games he used to play as a child, before he was sent off to train for war.

He's already feeling a bit restless, so this might be a perfect way to let off steam.

clad in sandals, he's moving over to Ryuji, prepared to take the ball from him and try to throw it in the basket as shown to him, but then Ryuji is continuing on. Urgh. He has to be patient, right? So he withdraws his hands and crosses his arms over his chest. ]

Dribble? [ Wait, didn't he mention something about stealing the ball? Hm....

He approaches, not really hiding his attention to take the ball from him. ]

[ryuji]

[With a bounce once, then twice, he criss-crosses the ball between hands, just sort of... keeping a glance at Achilles as he watches the movements intensely. Ryuji can't help but smile- he knows a devious gaze when he sees it, and Achilles has already figured out how to win this game. It's kind of expected, but nonetheless, the dumb smile is winning over his features for now.]

Oy, hey. Eyes up here. I know what you're tryin' to do.

[He bounce checks the ball at Achilles, letting him get a feel for how dribbling is supposed to work.]

You can't move around holding the ball, it's against the rules, so you dribble- er... bounce it... between the floor and your hands as you move toward the basket.

[Your turn, Achilles.]

Show me whatcha got.

[chariotry]

I... see... [ What... wasn't the point of this game to steal the ball? He catches it with ease, holding it between his palms and letting his fingers stretch over the curvature of the ball.

He glances between the floor and then Ryuji, before turning and stretching one arm back with the ball in his hand.

He tosses the ball towards the hoop single-handedly, like he were throwing a spear. It lands into the hoop effortlessly, dropping through the netting and bouncing to the floor and away from them. ]

[ryuji]

[ACHILLES...

Ryuji takes the ball from him, sucking in air through his teeth.]

You're supposed to use your hands like this. [Shows him a follow through, one hand guiding the other as it arcs and makes it into the hoop swiftly]

Not that it's super important, but... that's how most people do it. Not that you're like most people, huh? [Tosses him the ball once more, and just as Achilles gets it, he makes plans to intercept via jump between the ball and the hoop and steal it, to at least show him some Advanced Techniques (not advanced at all).]

1/2

[chariotry]

[ What?? What does it matter how he throws the ball as long as he got it in the hoop?

He's kind of left speechless for a moment as Ryuji passes him the ball, but easily mimics the position of his hands, balancing the ball in the palm of his right and bracing the side of it with his left.

And... he throws.

Only to have it intercepted. ]

[chariotry]

[ But Ryuji won't get far at all, because as soon as the ball is caught within his hands, Achilles is leaping forward and yanking him by the collar of his shirt.

He'll just take the ball away from him, now, rolling it in his palm as he pulls Ryuji by the shirt.

Look, he'll dribble the ball now. ]

Thought you could steal from me, did you? [ So... extra. ] Don't make me laugh.

[ryuji]

[..........................








Let me go???]

[ryuji]

Dude! That's a foul! [It's still kind of hilarious though, and Ryuji can't stop laughing his ass off at Achilles getting so incredibly frustrated by him stealing the ball. He tries to explain that this is all part of the game and to not take stealing so offensively, as he gives a concerted effort to swat the ball as it dribbles in mid flight.]